they welcome you with bright lights 
to blind you to the plight that plagues the poor 
and the involuntary blood transfusions 
that keep the city alive.

this is the city of cities 
where the bitumen counterfeits your dreams 
and fits you into the machine.
where your worth rises  when your morals are at their worst.

a purgatory where we start trouble back home 
so we can justify our sins 
and blame reality when we're too ashamed to lift up our chins. 

where people make peace with pieces of broken homes when they realise that gold doesn't glitter beneath blood and its worthless behind a spouse's teary eyes...

some march back with hearts and thoughts behind.
when detoured dreams make lies seem just 
and detached souls find warmth in lust.

welcome to the haven that you'll help Build 
but you need to forget heaven if you want to exist…

© Bulumko Nyamezele

day 5 | 19 August 2011